Page 34 of Mind Maze

“Matchmaking for the elites,” I mutter under my breath. “How charming.”

We both know this is more than a dating connection.

It’s mind control, manipulation, and morally corrupt behavior.

“Megan was presented to me and she was the opposite of everything I’ve known,” Bastian says, shrugging. “She wanted a reformation through CUP. I got what I wanted because she wasn’t like those witches I’d been dating, but she was also…”

“Trainable?” I offer. “How is this not a ‘mail-order robot bride’ situation?”

“Why is everything so black and white for you, Romy? There’s so much you don’t understand, nor will you ever. Just accept that I like Megan, and if things go well, she could be my wife one day.” He offers me a sheepish grin. “You could be an aunt.”

I stare at him, shaking my head. “Do you even hear yourself right now? Megan had dreams, Bas. She left her old town where she had nothing going for her and was going to make something of herself in California. We were in class together. She was my freaking partner—my friend. I knew her. This ‘arm-candy-to-the-rich-guy’ wasn’t her plan. That girl in there is not the same one I went to school with.”

“You obviously don’t know her well enough,” Bastian argues, scowling at me. “If you did, you’d know her dream is to be a wife and a mother. She’s sweet and caring. She irons my shirts because it makes her happy to do something for me.Irons, Romy. I don’t have to take my shirts in anymore because she launders and irons them better than they do at the dry cleaner. Plus, it saves me time.”

He’s not pulling my leg. He’s absolutely serious.

Bastian doesn’t want a wife. He wants a maid.

“Unbelievable,” I huff. “I can’t fathom how you’re okay with this.”

“Okay with someone who cares about me?” He rises from the chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “I thought you were oneof those people, but apparently you think I’m some rich asshole who uses women.”

Isn’t that exactly what he’s doing?

My face must portray that thought because he curses in frustration.

“Dammit,” he growls. “She’s happy. I’m happy. Let it be, for fuck’s sake.”

He starts pacing the space in front of the bed, clearly unnerved by my calling him out. I’m not backing down. Whatever this is he’s doing isn’t right.

“I don’t understand all the mechanics of what they do,” I say softly, “but it’s wrong. It’s mind control. You literally bought a woman whose mind had essentially been wiped like a hard drive on a computer and reprogramed her to be exactly what you want. How is that not disgusting to you?”

His jaw muscle ticks and he shoots me a nasty glare. “You make it sound like I’m some sick, end-user fuck in a human trafficking scheme.”

Again, that’s exactly what this is.

“Megan chose this,” he barks out, face turning crimson. “She wasn’t stolen or kidnapped or forced. Go fucking ask her. She saw an opportunity, joined a program, and is now connected to our family. With me, she has a future she could never have dreamed of.”

“As a Stepford wife?!” I shriek. “No one chooses that.”

“According to the CUP program, the participants agree to everything that’s done to them. It’s not some shady shit like you think.”

We’re going to go around and around with this. He won’t budge. Either he believes it fully, or he’s simply delusional. I’m not getting anywhere with him, though.

I also stand and force a smile. “I guess we can agree to disagree.”

He flinches at my words. Then his features go placid. “Are you off your meds?”

This time, it’s me who recoils. Do I seem like the unhinged one at the moment? I didn’t buy a young woman to turn into my robot wife.

“That’s none of your business,” I say tartly. “When did you turn into Dad?”

I think of Eva and begin to wonder if Dad acquired her as his wife the same way Bastian got Megan. The thought sickens me. This really is a lucrative business. They farm out the women to rich guys all over who’re looking for “seen-but-not-heard” wives, trigger-happy soldiers for when they need a weapon, and teenage captives for the sick underbelly of the world. I’m disgusted by all of it.

And now I’m officially caught up in this world.

“How much did you spend on her?” I ask, leveling him with a hard glare. “Last question and then we’re done here.”

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